Chapter 35
Chapter Thirty-Five
Six Weeks Later
Caleb and Henry spent the next six weeks rebuilding the barn and Henry’s cabin. The weather had helped, what with the cold easing a little during the day and only an occasional dusting of snow at night. Henry forecasted that January would be hellacious.
Money was going to be tight till spring.
Caleb had gotten paid bounties for John Rivers and for Mad Dog McCord.
That had helped, some. And they’d cut the numbers in the herd, selling the meat in town and shipping the rest to Denver by sledge.
Mr. Lewis at the hardware store and Mr. Wilson at the general store had grubstaked them for building supplies and feed and such in exchange for a percentage of their beef profits over the next two years.
That worried Caleb a little, but he was reconciled to it.
Duke Ortiz and Bass Dart returned to Elkhorn, having decided to winter here until they thought Tex Washington was ready to travel.
The three of them came over often. The more hands, the faster the buildings went up.
As Christmas drew nearer, they were starting to make some noise about heading home.
Bass said, as a Louisiana native, he’d never get used to this cold.
And Caleb knew Duke wanted to get started on rounding up a herd for next year’s drive.
The thousand longhorns were gone. What Elijah Starr had done couldn’t be undone. The cattle had become possessions of Eric Goulden, and there was no getting them back from him. A person would have better luck prying a rabbit out of the talons of turkey buzzard.
Caleb and Henry had made a deal with Ortiz regarding the herd he was bringing them next year, and it was a good one.
Duke kept saying his family honor and the honor of the vaqueros was at stake, and Caleb finally stopped arguing about it.
At least, Ortiz had agreed to take some of the bounty money to put toward the purchase, but getting him to take even that had been a battle.
Caleb and Henry were keeping the ranch. Judge Patterson had given up on the idea of finding a reason to run them off. For now.
The work they’d been doing over the past six weeks had been hard and honest, and Caleb’s ribs and bruises from falling off the side of the mountain had healed up completely. In general, he felt that things were shaping up. For the first time in his life, he was feeling truly settled.
Not because the future was certain. It wasn’t. Money was scarce. The ranch still carried debt. There would be more trouble sooner or later. There always was on the frontier.
But now, when Caleb looked ahead, he saw something worth building toward.
The occasional itch to get away into the mountains, to the sounds of the birds and animals, and to the clean air that had none of the acrid taint of towns or mine works was just that. An itch. He was a different man now, and he knew it.
His discussion with Sheila out by the smoldering barn had helped him more than she knew.
She’d convinced him to stay and fight. She’d forced his eyes open to see and recognize who he was.
Caleb Marlowe was a gunslinger, a fighter, and a killer when the need arose.
And that was fine. This was the frontier. This was the life that he’d chosen.
What Sheila had made him understand was that those things did not have to stand in the way of happiness.
For years, he'd believed there was no place for a man like him anywhere except alone on the frayed edge of civilization. Sheila had shown him otherwise.
She wasn’t trying to find a place in his world anymore. She was already part of it.
And it still amazed Caleb that he’d begun building a place for himself in hers.
They were not as different as he’d once believed. They were survivors. And together, they were building something worth fighting for.
And there were other things that helped Caleb feel settled too.
Mad Dog McCord’s public confession had been enough for the judge.
He’d ordered Zeke to set Henry free that same night.
McCord’s debt to society had been paid soon enough and had drawn a good crowd.
At the very end, the blowhard had made some long rambling speech about his hanging drawing a bigger crowd than any other hanging in the history of hangings.
Caleb wasn’t there, but Zeke had told the story with gusto.
More important than anything else, Elijah Starr was gone for good.
Day after day, they made progress on the barn. But the fly in that pudding was that with all the work they’d been doing, Caleb had no time to go to Doc’s house for chess and dinner. He missed the games and the company. But more so, he missed Sheila.
Missed hearing her laugh. Missed the way she challenged him when everyone else backed down. Missed seeing her walk into a room and make the place feel warmer.
From all he was hearing, though, she’d been damn busy herself with her Ladies Event Planning Committee and their preparations for the Christmas Gala.
He didn’t know anything about the arrangements for the upcoming shindy.
The fire had put an end to talk of the event being held out here.
Where exactly it was to be held and what was going on, he hadn’t been told and he hadn’t asked.
He figured it would come clear soon enough, tomorrow being Christmas Eve.
He and Henry were expected to be in Elkhorn around suppertime.
Henry had been making regular trips to Wilson’s General Store, buying gifts for all his women.
Caleb was starting to wonder if he had a soft spot for Mrs. Wilson, but Henry denied it hotly.
In any event, he’d made his final trip to town this morning while they were supposed to be hanging the barn doors.
When Henry finally got back and they settled down to work, the chucklehead had started in on him again. “You told me you wasn’t buying gifts for nobody.”
Before this year, Caleb never thought about the tradition of gift giving at Christmas. When his mother died, that tradition had died with it.
Yet one morning when he’d gone to town for supplies, he’d found himself standing in Wilson's store longer than he cared to admit, turning possibilities over in his mind.
Nothing seemed good enough. Not for Sheila.
“Wilson asked me this morning if you was happy with all the packages you picked up.”
“I’m happy.” Or at least, he would be if Christmas Eve got here a little faster.
“Where are you hiding them? How come you never said nothing?”
With Henry’s cabin finished last week, it was good not having his friend in his hair every minute. “None of your business.”
“Who did you buy for?”
“Quiet down and wedge that side. I don’t want it moving while I auger out these last holes. Let’s finish this.”
Henry worked diligently and in silence for roughly two seconds.
“So, did you take any of my very helpful suggestions about what to buy and what not to buy for the lovely Miss Sheila?”
“Did you see the damn door move when you started flapping your gums? It’s gonna be spring, and we still won’t have this last door hung. Pick it up and wedge it. And use your tongue for a wedge while you’re at it.”
Henry hefted his side and shoved the wedges back in, trying to look offended.
“Good. Keep it there.” Caleb cranked the auger.
“Hope you didn’t do nothing boring like buying her a book or nothing. Do you know she has subscriptions to three magazines?”
“How do you know that?” He slid the bolt through. One more hole and they were finished. He moved and put the auger bit through the hinge and started cranking.
“Mrs. Lewis let it slip one day when I was in the hardware store. She believes Sheila Burnett must be the smartest person in Elkhorn with all the reading she does.”
Caleb didn’t need Mrs. Lewis to say so. He already knew.
“She’s too old for you to get her hair ribbons.”
“Did those wedges move?”
“Gloves are usually a good gift. She ain’t fond of wearing them, though, I noticed.”
Caleb frowned at his friend. “Oh, you noticed, did you?”
“You didn’t get her one of them new, bright painted fans Wilson got in his front window, did you?
” Henry’s face soured as if that were a terrible idea.
“Every one of them saloon girls over at the Belle got one. You gotta be careful about offending a woman, Marlowe. It can be tricky. I remember this one gal I knew up in Denver—”
“Henry!” Caleb barked.
“All right. Just trying to help.”
The auger went through, and Caleb pushed in the bolt.
Henry was paying no attention to the business of the door, whatsoever. “I do believe Miss Sheila is the only woman in Elkhorn that’s got everything. Her and Belle Constant.”
Caleb popped the wedges and carefully swung the door out.
“You go in there and put these nuts on them bolts,” he ordered. “When I get the door wedged again, tighten ’em good. And maybe I’ll let you out by New Year’s.”
Henry went inside, and Caleb could hear the nuts going on.
He never stopped talking, and his muffled voice was still coming through the door. “She’s another one that’s tough to buy for. That Belle, I mean.”
“I think you should give that present for Belle particular attention.”
As surprising as it was that Henry was buying a present for the saloon owner, it was a relief to have him paying attention to someone other than Sheila. Maybe Caleb would finally be able to put aside the occasional urge to knock his friend’s teeth out.
“Done,” his partner declared, coming out and sounding like he’d done the whole damn thing himself.
The two of them stood back and inspected their finished work. The barn was done.
Caleb ran a hand across one of the new doors. Six weeks ago, he'd stood here watching flames consume everything he’d worked for. Now the barn stood whole again.
Bear got up from where he’d been working hard supervising over by the wall and plunked his butt down between them.
Henry patted the dog’s head. “You get a gift too. I saved you an elk bone.”
Bear looked up, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth.
“All those packages you picked up at Wilsons. Did you get me something for Christmas?” Henry asked.
“You’re standing here, ain’t you? You didn’t hang. That’s your gift.”
“Good. I didn’t get you nothing, either.”